I sat across the table from a tall, bald man with a warm, but worn smile holding a pen and paper. “What are your plans after discharge to cope with your depression?” was typed on the paper, and my response held the key to my release.
It had been an ordinary day in the middle of the week four days earlier. Typical everyday stress carried by mom duties grated at me, caring for small children and making another Christmas magical had almost overwhelmed me, and having my oldest daughter’s birthday on the second of January only pushed further the bustling days I had before I could relax.
On that day in January, I fell apart. I had held it together for so long. I had lauded my oldest in kindergarten as she was pulled out of class a couple of timesRead more on themighty.com